A Family for the Rugged Rancher

The evening was as mellow as he’d ever seen it this early in July. The wide-open sky swirled together in shades of pink, peach and lilac as the sun began to dip over the prairie. Even the green leaves on the shrubs and poplar trees seemed less brash in the evening light. The air was perfumed with fresh grass and timothy and the faintest hint of clover. Why had he ever considered leaving, as though this place wasn’t enough? The ranch was in his blood. Something tightened inside him. So many things were in his blood and that was the whole problem.

He led Emily over the fields to the top of a knoll. He stopped and took a deep breath. From here they could see for miles. Evans’s land went on for a huge portion of the view. This was his. His responsibility. His heritage. His privilege.

“Oh, wow,” Emily breathed, and he looked over at her. Lord, she was beautiful. He’d thought so from the first. Her hair had grown a little longer in the days she’d been here, the flirty tips of her short cut now softer around her face. She had held him together today, as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

“I’m scared, Em.”

Sympathy softened her face even more. “Oh, Luke. I’m sure that is hard to say.”

He nodded. “It is. I don’t have the luxury of being scared. I’ve known for a long time that this family is my responsibility, but there was always this little bit of ‘not yet’ as long as Dad was alive. It was easier to deny, I suppose. I’m starting to have to face the truth. It’s all on me now. And I don’t want to face it. I want to go back to being twenty and full of myself and with my life ahead of me. Not predetermined.”

He shook his head. “I’m a selfish bastard. I’ve got everything I could ever want and I’m ungrateful.”

“No you’re not.” She turned her back on the view and gripped his wrists. “I can only imagine how hard this is for you. He is your father.”

“I never asked for this. We were still reeling from Mom’s death and I think Dad must

have had an idea that things weren’t right. He and I went to the lawyer’s one day and he changed his will and gave me power of attorney. He told me it was because one day the farm would be mine. I had no idea how soon…I think he knew what was coming and was preparing. He knew I would have to make the decisions when he couldn’t. But putting your own father in a home…” His voice cracked. “It was hell on earth making that decision.”

Remembering how ungrateful he’d been back then left a bitter taste in his mouth. “I wanted to finish school. To get away from Evans and Son like it was a foregone conclusion.” He stared past Emily’s shoulder at the blocks of color below: the dull green of the freshly hayed fields, the lush emerald of pasture, the golden fields of grain crops. “We had words about it.”

“And he was already sick?”

“Yes.” He turned his attention back to Emily, expecting to see revulsion on her face. Hell, he hated himself for ever having felt it and now saying it out loud was like admitting he was a self-absorbed kid. But her eyes were soft with understanding, and she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest.

He let his arms go around her, drawing strength from her.

“We thought he was just grieving for Mom and having difficulties. We made all sorts of excuses. It wasn’t until the smoke alarms went off that we realized. The kitchen had some fire and smoke damage. That was all. But it could have been worse. He was a danger to all of us. The hardest thing I ever did was put my father in a home. Especially after the words I’d said to him. And the girls…they were dealing with teenage angst and emotions and missing our mother. I was barely more than a kid myself.”

He paused, wondered how much of the truth to tell her and settled for half. “I never want to have that responsibility again. I’ve been son, brother, parent, breadwinner and sole operator of this ranch and that’s enough for me. I raised my family and it was one hell of a painful experience. I don’t want to raise another one.”

She pulled away from his chest. Perhaps he hadn’t shocked her before but he had now. Her face had gone white as she stared up at him. What would she say if he told her the rest?

But he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. And what good would it do for her to know he wanted things that he could never have? It would only hurt them both further, because it was as plain as the nose on his face that she was developing feelings. That was his fault, and up to him to fix.

“I see.”

He swallowed, hating the dull pain in her voice. “I thought you should know so you didn’t get…” Oh, God, this was tearing him apart on top of everything else. He didn’t want to hurt her. “So you didn’t get your hopes up. About us.”

“You mean after the kisses.” She dropped her hands from his ribs as though his skin was suddenly burning her fingertips. It was what he wanted. He needed to push her away, so why did it have to hurt so much?

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. Either time. I certainly didn’t plan it. You’re a desirable woman, Emily. Don’t let that fool of an ex-husband let you think otherwise. But I’m not in the market for a wife and you should know that from the start.”

She turned her back on him, staring over the naked fields now with her shoulders pulled up. He had hurt her. He’d only hurt her more if he kept on. The sky was a dusky shade of purple and he knew they had to be going back. Off to the east, the first howl of a coyote echoed, lonely and fierce.

Emily turned back to face him and he expected to have tears to contend with. But there were none. Her face was impassive, showing neither hurt nor pleasure. She merely lifted her eyebrows the slightest bit and replied, “Then it is a good thing that I’m not looking for a husband, either.”

Emily held herself together all during the long, silent walk back to the house, all the while she called Liz to check up on Sam, and even up until she brushed her teeth and climbed under the covers of her bed. But once she put her head on the pillow, the tears came. She would not sob; she refused to let Luke know that she was crying over him. Hadn’t it only been short weeks ago she’d claimed she’d hardened her heart to love? How wrong—how arrogant—she’d been. She’d had chinks in her armor and Luke had got past each one. She hadn’t even recognized the feeling inside her as hope, but it had been there. She had envisioned getting on with her life. The possibility of more children, the big family she’d always longed for. Who was she kidding? She had pictured it happening with Luke. Maybe not right away. But somewhere in the back of her mind he’d emerged as her ideal.

She sniffled into her pillow, her heart hurting. Hadn’t she just done the same thing as before? She had given of herself. Anyone could cook and clean, but it had been more than that. She’d done so with care, trying to make things better for Luke. It had been personal from the start. She’d been looking for his approval, she realized. Not approval of the job but approval of her. She’d set herself up for this. It wasn’t all Luke’s fault.

She was conscious of him lying in the next bedroom, and struggled to keep her breathing quiet. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t face him day after day, feeling the way she did, and knowing it would never go anywhere. Oh, she couldn’t just pack up and leave in the morning. She would give it a few days. Let things resume some sort of normalcy, give Luke a chance to get his father settled. But it was time to go back to the old emergency plan. At least now she had an idea of what she could do. She was good at taking care of people and she loved children. She would go to her parents’ place, find work as a housekeeper and look into some night courses. She could take early childhood education or perhaps even a teaching assistant course—both positions that would mean she could support Sam in all the ways that mattered.

She fluffed her pillow and let resolve flood into her. Thinking ahead felt so much better than the hurt. The idea took hold and she closed her eyes, desperate to look forward, willing sleep to come.

She had simply been lonely, thinking of herself, swept away by fancy. But she couldn’t afford to think only of herself. She had Sam, and he came first. In time she’d stop caring about Luke Evans and simply thank him for showing her the way to her independence.

Sleep snuck in, merciful but bittersweet. If that were true, then why did she still feel this aching hole inside her?